A Recipe For Disaster
by InventorOfFirebolt
Summary: Almost twelve years later, it seems as if all was safe. But as Harry leads a mission to exterminate a pair of werewolf cubs, fathered by the infamous Fenrir Greyback, he soon finds himself plunged into a web of treachery, deceit, and intense family drama
1. Chapter 1

"Nice job today, everyone!" Harry said encouragingly, clapping Dean Thomas on the back and nodding to a couple of newbies. Then he and Ron headed out to the Atrium to Apparate home. After a loud crack, they were standing outside the Burrow, where everyone had gathered to celebrate Harry's 28th birthday.

"Everyone" included the entire Weasley clan, Ron's family, Hagrid, and of course, Ginny. Harry grinned at the sight of them assembled around a gigantic chocolate cake with the words "Happy Birthday Harry!" written across the top in green, swirly letters; no doubt Mrs. Weasley had baked it herself.

He and Ron strode up to embrace old friends and their families. Ginny was holding a one-year-old Lily Luna Potter by the hand. At the sight of harry, she wobbled forward on unsteady legs, pudgy arms held out and sticky –with what, Harry didn't want to know—red hair flying.

"Daddy!" she squealed, grabbing fistfuls of unruly black hair as if they were reins on a hippogriff. Harry winced and grinned at the same time and his daughter jumped onto his back. Now two boys came running across the scruffy, gnome-infested yard (its glorious, gnome-free days during Fleur's wedding were long since over) to greet their father.

James Sirius Potter, sprinting on his five-year-old legs and chubby, just-turned-three Albus Severus Potter, trying to keep with his older brother. Both boys had a mop of messy black hair, like their dad, but only Albus inherited those piercing green eyes…Lily's eyes.

He now looked gleefully at Harry with those eyes; he and James each grabbed one of Harry's legs bellowing _HAPPY BIRTHDAY_ at the top of their lungs (probably George's idea of an amusing birthday greeting). Harry almost went down under the combined weight of all three young Potters until Ginny hurried forward and scolded the boys off their father's trousers, which were now decorated with muddy handprints.

"Lily, let go before I have to bring your father to St. Mungo's," Ginny said sternly. Indeed, Harry was now turning a deep shade of magenta that Vernon Dursley would've been proud of—his daughter was hanging tightly onto his throat. At her mum's words though, she jumped off, unabashed, and went to pester George instead. After gasping for breath and rubbing his Adam's apple, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned to look at his wife for the first time.

She looked as radiant as ever, even more lovely today, if that's possible. She wasn't dressed in anything fancy for his birthday, but Harry didn't mind. As far as he's concerned, she could be in old, tattered robes and still be gorgeous. Her beautiful face wore a beautiful smile. A contagious smile, as Harry started smiling as well and leaning over to kiss her. He felt her lips move against his, whispering "Happy birthday."

A slightly cocky voice behind them said, "Get a room, will you?" Harry spun around to find his godson smirking at the pair of them.

"Shove off, Teddy." Harry growled, but anyone who knew him well enough would hear the lack of resent in his gruff tone and instead decipher laughter. That didn't stop Ron from teasing though.

"Yeah, mate. You don't see me snogging Hermione every chance I get," he observed, also smirking. Harry opened his mouth to reply in kind, but two witches beat him to it.

"I bet my broomstick that you sure as hell fantasize about it!" Ginny retorted, the same time that Hermione nudged her husband and said sweetly, "Ahem, ever heard of a certain Lavender Brown and Won-Won?"

The tips of Ron's ears were now rival to that of his flaming red hair. He stuttered, "That's—I—nothing to do with—completely missed the point—".

But as Harry headed inside (where very delicious aromas were now arising) he can't help but muse to himself that somehow, both their wives had gotten to the point much better than Ron did.

**AN: This is my first, short, not-so-well-written chapter (at least I think so) for this story but I finished this with a bit of time between a violin lesson and babysitting so the other chapters will be at least better than this. It's just an intro for the plot, I guess, not exactly important but tells the time, which is Harry's 28****th**** birthday. Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, obviously and I'll try to update as soon as I can :D**

**~InventorOfFirebolt**


	2. Chapter 2

After a festive night of chatting and eating, Harry and Ginny, along with their children, Floo'd to their own place, just outside of Diagon Alley. It was a cozy little flat, perfect for the five of them. He settled down to sleep with his stomach comfortably full with Mrs. Weasley's amazing cooking, but not before Ginny gave him another present, just the two of them, and a very, very private one at that. When they'd both finished, Harry could barely keep his eyes open and soon, fell into a deep, restful sleep…

He was soaring along the goalposts, searching for a hint of the Snitch. Everywhere around him, Beaters merciless swung their heavy bats at Bludgers; Chasers dived and swerved around the rival team, seamlessly passing the red Quaffle to each other; and Keepers flitted from goal to goal, trying to not let the other team score. With a jolt Harry recognized one of the Beaters on his team as Fred Weasley, viciously knocking a Bludger into an opponent, his twin George, identical to his nowadays self, save for that fact that he had both ears. Then, he spotted Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet, flawlessly working as a team to keep the Quaffle on the Gryffindor side. Oliver Wood was there too, ducking as a Bludger headed for his stomach and swerved right, causing a Chaser on the other team to fall off his broom. Harry looked with pride at his old Quidditch team. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a wink of gold and veered around and saw the tiny Snitch fly around the hem of George's robes. He plummeted down; neck to neck with the other Seeker…..he could see the miniscule wings fluttering madly, trying to keep out of his grip…..just a few more centimeters…..

Suddenly, Harry was no longer at the Quidditch pitch, no longer surrounded by screaming, cheering students. Instead, he was creeping along a dark, deserted road. Gnarled branches swung in his face and abandoned, desolate houses dotted the sides. He stopped before the last house on the street and raising a shaking hand, he hesitantly knocked on the moldy wooden door three times. The door was flung open by a distinctively hairy-looking boy who looked about the same age as Teddy. While the latter still had about all seven years of Hogwarts to grow his first layer of peach fuzz, this boy looked like a mini-Hagrid, in the means of facial hair. Harry's godson always wore a smile and was clean-scrubbed; Harry rather thought this boy could use a much-needed introduction to soap and water. He too wore a smile on his bushy face, but instead of Teddy's warm, teasing grin, his was more of an unpleasant sneering smirk.

"I-I've come at the request of Madam—" Harry his mouth move but the sound came at a distance, like he was listening through a long tunnel. _I must be in a dream_, he realized.

The boy interrupted the man. "Yeah, yeah. I know what she's called you here for. She's got a new one every night, innit?"

The man nervously licked his lips. "I d-don't know what you mean—" he stuttered out but the boy waved the question off. "Eh, never mind. Yer'll see for yerself," he started down the hall. Dream Harry and the man gasped together. The ruined façade of the outside was deceptively false. The inside was large and spacious, with a high, vaulted ceiling and cold, marble flooring. There was soft music playing somewhere though Harry couldn't see a Muggle stereo system or something or that sort. Also, the picture on the walls where moving, Harry noticed. So who ever lived here could do magic. The man, however, was obviously a Muggle for he seemed intrigued at the pictures first, then opened his mouth to ask a question, but was silenced with a glare from the boy. They stopped at the end of the long, lavish hallway.

"Here yeh go," sneered the boy, turning to doorknob. Trembling with anticipation and nervousness, the man slowly walked in and Harry followed, he himself brimming with curiosity. Inside the vast room was a four-poster bed, similar to those at Hogwarts, except much wider and the bedsheets were a dark blood-red, instead of the familiar scarlet. The curtains were pulled shut and Harry suddenly had a very ominous feeling about the whole dream. Before he could leave, the heavy lace curtains slowly drew open.

Harry's eyes flew wide open. Inside, laid a woman more stunning than Harry could possibly imagine. Her creamy, bare back was facing him, but from her sleek, shiny golden hair and slightly parted, red lips, Harry could guess what treasures awaited on the other side. For an instant Harry wondered what would happen if he were to get on the bed himself then immediately mentally cursed himself for thinking that and vowed to shut his eyes from this moment on. With enormous effort, he managed to wrench his eyes away and squeezed them shut. The darkness was comforting at first, as he his hid from his moment of weakness. Then it all went wrong.

The image of the woman was pushing at the outer boundaries of his mind. He tried to push it away and instead focused on Ginny's wrath when she finds out about this dream, it helped. A lot. Then the image came at him again, this time stronger, and Harry firmly pushed it away, and thought of mundane things such as the fact that the coffee machine in his office needed a cleaning and made a mental note to ask the house-elves _politely_ to clean it. Hermione is now the Head of the Society of Protection of Elfish Welfare Department at the Ministry, an office added after the war for, well, the protection of elfish welfare. She's constantly chivvying both him and Ron to be nicer to the elves that works around the Ministry now. Harry smiled to himself. It temporarily kept the distracting—not to mention unfaithful—image at bay. Encouraged, Harry though back to his fifth year, when Hermione has rattled around the Gryffindor common room, thrusting her tin of "SPEW" badges under peoples' noses, threatening them to buy one, while heatedly rambling on and on about how unfair the house-elves were treated. Ron and Harry had both laughed at her, but now look where she is. Head of department that she herself singled-handedly added! Harry smiled again, marveling at his best friend's abilities. Harry was free of that image at last.

The relief did not last long.

_BOOM!_ Harry's head pounded painfully as the image crashed against his cranium. Clutching his head in agony, Harry stumbled backwards blindly. Someone was calling his name and for a second he was haunted by the old nightmare, of the flashback when his parents were murdered by Voldemort. But this wasn't his mother's voice. It was younger and sounded very much like Ginny…Harry lurched for the door and woke with a shudder.

"Harry! Harry!" Ginny yelled from the bathroom. Bolting out of bed and grabbing his wand, he ran to the bathroom and found Ginny sitting there, peering at him.

"Wha—? What's wrong?" He panted. Ginny looked sheepish.

"Er…sorry for waking you like this but I can't find my wand right now, so I…er…need you to help me clean this up. I think I ate something bad last night." She pointed to a puddle of vomit next to the toilet. Harry stared and she said awkwardly, "I was aiming for the toilet, but I guess my aim isn't as it used to be."

Harry didn't say anything. "Harry? You ok?" Ginny asked.

Silence.

"Stop looking like a dumb, speechless, handsome git, Harry, and clean this up!" Ginny was getting rather impatient with her husband.

Suddenly, without warning, Harry exploded with laughter.

"Harry! Shut up! You'll wake the kids!" Ginny hissed. Harry quieted down but still chortled. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that it reminded me of the time Ron came screaming into my room at three in the morning because there was a spider in the bathroom sink," Harry explained, snickering. Now it was Ginny's turn to stare. Then she too burst out in laughter.

"He did?" She giggled. "Oh, wait till George knows! Ron's never going live it down!"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "You're going to tell George?" He asked his wife, and Vanished the vomit.

"Yeah, but don't worry, I won't tell him you told me." Ginny smiled knowingly.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, because Ron will kill me,"

"Without a doubt," Ginny nodded solemnly.

"Wow, great way to make me feel better, Gin!" Harry rolled his eyes. "_Scourify_," he said, and the bathroom was clean once more.

"Thanks, Harry," Ginny said and kissed him.

"Now _that_'s a way to make me feel better!" Harry chuckled.

Ginny rolled her eyes and kissed him again. "How do you feel now?" she asked.

"I feel amazing," Harry whispered and resumed kissing his wife.

"Ew!" A tiny voice said. Harry and Ginny jumped apart and saw all James and Albus standing at the door, faces crinkled in disgust.

"_That's_ called snogging," James told his younger brother importantly.

"I don't think I like it," Albus stared, repulsed.

"What are you boys doing up so early?" Ginny asked, looking completely natural despite the fact that their sons had walked in on them.

"Why are you, Mummy?" Albus countered. "So that you can snog Daddy?" His little mouth twisted around the foreign word.

Harry blushed. "No, Mummy just needed me to help her clean something."

"Like what?" James wanted to know.

"Did Mummy go potty on her bed?" Albus piped up. James giggled at "potty".

"Mummy needs diaper? I don't need diaper!" the older boy bragged.

"I do," Albus frowned.

Harry let out a sigh and looked at his sons.

"Just go back to bed, boys." Ginny said, ushering them out the door.

"No! We want breakfast," they said together, refusing to budge. Ginny looked at Harry, who took charge of the situation.

"Go get dressed and Daddy will make you pancakes, okay?"

"Does Daddy know how to make pancakes?" James asked worriedly.

Harry's patience was running very thin, and Ginny could see that.

"Of course Daddy knows how to make pancakes," She told James soothingly. "Now run along, both of you, and your father's going to make you some pancakes."

"With blueberries?" Albus asked, peering up at Harry with his green eyes wide.

"I hate blueberries!" James exclaimed. "Put some Chocolate Frogs on the pancakes, Daddy!"

"No!" Albus stomped his foot. "I want blueberries!"

"Frog!" James crossed his arms.

"Blueberries!"

"Frog!"

"Boys, quiet! You will eat whatever your father makes for you!" Ginny lost her patience before Harry, who stared at his wife. She never got cranky with the kids before he did.

"Gin," He said in an undertone, while the two boys marched separate ways to their rooms, arms crossed and backs hunched, scowling.

"Ginny, are you going through your…period?" Harry asked cautiously. He knew, from firsthand experience, and sometimes Ron's complaining, that a woman going through her period is to be treated like a bomb that could go off any time. Ginny forced a smile.

"No, Harry. I don't know, it's definitely not my period, but I just woke up and felt really horrible, from this annoying headache to my sore feet and now this." Ginny sighed. "I think I need to take today off and squeeze in a few hours of sleep. Tell the Head, will you?" her eyes sparkled; Harry was the Head of Auror Department.

"The Head has been notified," Harry joked and kissed her forehead. "You do whatever you need, sweetie. Do you want me to bring the kids to the Burrow today or should I bring them to the daycare?" Their kids attended the same daycare as Ron and Hermione's children.

"Burrow, I guess. Mum wouldn't mind; she'd love to have some children running around the place again."

"Why don't you lie down now, while I go make the kids their pancakes?" Harry rolled his eyes fondly. "I'll leave some in the fridge for you,"

Ginny thanked him and staggered to the bed and Harry gently closed the door, heaved a resigned sigh, and prepared to deal with his adorable, stubborn sons.

Harry rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. The morning had gone smoothly enough, and he had pleased all three of his children by making each of them separate plates of pancakes with different toppings: Chocolate Frogs for James, blueberries for Albus, and maple syrup for Lily. Then, he'd Floo'd to the Burrow, and Molly, as usual, handed out some treats fresh from the oven. The kids said a cheerful goodbye, minds more on the snacks than their father, and Harry Apparated to work.

Even all these years after the war, not everywhere was peaceful. All the Death Eaters were either locked in Azkaban for life, or some attempted suicide to escape justice. Then there were the dangerous artifacts that Voldemort and his followers used to take care of anyone who disagreed with him.

Today, however, it was not a rogue Death Eater that caused Harry so much stress. It was the non-stop memos from Ron, who was an Auror, like Harry, but apparently was doing field work today. At his house. Carrying out dangerous and complex missions like cleaning sinks, vacuuming the floor, and washing the carpet.

The scattered scraps of parchment around Harry's desk and on the floor all read similar things:

_ Dammit Harry, I forgot the spell to clean the bathtub, it's all yellowish and moldy. And how the hell do you get the stains off of curtains?_

_ Merlin help me, Mione wants me to de-clutter the living room as well! How do you even do that when there's not a bloody thing there in the first place?_

_ Blast it, Hugo pooped on the Persian rug in Hermione's room and now she's screaming at me for not putting his diaper on correctly. How do you get the…y'know…brown stuff out?_

After receiving thirty-five, give or take a few, short notes like these, each growing more and more desperate and the vulgar language visibly increasing, Harry took pity on his best friend and replied back using one of the Ministry owls:

_Use Muggle cleaning products, I'm sure Hermione's got loads in the cabinet under the kitchen sink. If not, use Scourify for basic things, Scourify Maximus for the bathtub, Priori Aquatis to take care of Hugo's mess. For the living room, based on the clutter degree, just wave your wand around and visualize everything in its proper order. Anything I missed?_

Ron sent an answer back about five minutes after Harry let the owl out of his window, thanking him profusely for the help, with a small P.S. attached from Hermione.

_Harry, thank you so much for writing that letter, I was a bit worried that my husband couldn't do housework. From now on, I'll write him a list of spells to use for proper situations. Love, Hermione._

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned to his paperwork at last, feeling tension drain from his shoulders. He settled back into his cushiony swivel chair and prepared to tackle the latest pile of documents piled on his desk.

It was twelve-thirty when Harry decided to take a short lunch break and called up Kreacher—who now works at the Ministry as Harry's personal elf—and told him to bring a sandwich and some pumpkin juice. Kreacher had bowed out and reappeared within thirty seconds bearing a tray laden with a pitcher of iced pumpkin juice and a ham sandwich. Harry thanked him gratefully and hungrily wolfed down his food; the pancakes he had with the kids this morning seemed ages ago.

He took one last sip of the juice, and then sent the tray, plate and glass, and the empty pitcher down to the kitchen for the house-elves to clean. Harry propped his feet up on his desk and closed his eyes, mentally going over his day so far. Wake up, check. Make and eat breakfast, check. Arrive at work, check. Assist Ron in his house-cleaning assignment, check. Paperwork, check.

_I can take a little nap_, Harry reasoned_. I finished everything for today._

Propping his feet up on his desk, Harry conjured up a blanket and closed his heavy eyes. Within minutes he was snoring quietly, looking for all the world like a normal wizard grabbing winks at work. But beneath the benign façade, something dark was going on.

_A flash of dark fur. In his peripheral vision, Harry saw that flash of fur. Then it was there again, this time a hooked claw. Gleaming, bloodthirsty yellow eyes. Long sharp fangs. A werewolf. It circled around Harry, baring its razor-like teeth. For the first time, Harry noticed where he was standing. It was Hogwarts during the final battle. Amid rubble was the wolf. It advanced forward and Harry instinctively reached for his wand but his pocket was empty. The wolf was getting close and closer now. Three feet….two feet…_

_ Then it pounced, jumping powerfully and dug its claws into Harry. He cried out in pain, then felt the teeth graze his neck. He was bitten. He was one of them now. Vaguely, Harry heard a voice that sounded like Hermione crying, "NO!" then a strong wave of heat. The werewolf was blasted off his feet and Harry tried to call out to his best friend but his limbs were paralyzed. Somewhere above him, the faraway voice of Professor Trelawney said something about crystal balls and promptly dropped one on the werewolf's head. Harry struggled vainly against the darkness that was threatening to suffocate him but it was too strong. His vision became blurry and dark. Everything was fading. Then there was no more._

Harry Potter woke with a cold sweat, sitting in his chair at the Ministry. His blanket was tangled in his legs and his paperwork was scattered on the floor. Still shaken from the nightmare, Harry shuffled the papers neatly and placed them on his desk, absentmindedly rubbing the old scar—it had opened again.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning as Harry was fruitlessly attempting to flatten his hair for work and just as Ginny was coming out of the bathroom, an overexcited James shot into their room. "Mummy, Daddy, come quick! The Minister's here!" Harry threw on a robe and raced downstairs and found the Minister standing serenely in their somewhat cluttered living room.

"Morning, Potter," Minister Shacklebolt said crisply, bur before Harry could return the greeting, Kingsley dropped all pretenses of a distant, Minister-to-worker conversation tone. He lowered his voice and spoke urgently, as if time was ticking out. "Sorry to bother you so early, Harry, but I've got a special mission for you. You, and only you, can lead it."

Harry's interest—not to mention a tiny amount of dread—was instantly piqued. The last time he heard Kinglsey speak so desperately was during Voldemort's secretive reign of terror. "Why only me, Minister?" he asked Kinglsey, who was now rubbing his shiny bald plate, and pacing across the room, apparently very agitated about something. This too, reminded Harry of the days when Voldemort was still at large, when Muggles were found mysteriously dead every day , when anyone could turn around and stab your back…

Harry gave himself a thorough shake and jerked back to the present. The Minister stopped pacing and sat down with a humongous sigh on their couch.

"Harry, I know how much you sacrificed yourself on the hunt for Horcruxes and killing Voldemort, I just can't bring myself to pile more of that type of pressure—"

"Say no more, Minister. You know as well as I do that I dedicate my life to fighting the Dark Arts." Harry interrupted. "Now what is this 'special' mission about?"

Kingsley grinned and clapped Harry on the back. "I knew you'd say that. I better get started.

"After the Battle of Hogwarts, Fenrir Greyback was captured and tried before the full court of Wizengamot, by the Supreme Mugwump himself. He was sentenced to the rest of his life in Azkaban, found guilty of torture, murder, and countless attempts of biting innocent humans, often children."

_Remus,_ Harry thought, his chest tightening at the thought of one of his father's best friends. He and his wife Nymphadora Tonks had both died during the Battle of Hogwarts, leaving their newborn son, Teddy, to Harry, his godfather and his grandma, Andromeda, who was his only living family.

"—so when he was safely and securely in a cell guarded by tamed Blast-Ended Skrewts—courtesy of Hagrid, no one else would come 50 feet of those monsters—"

_I'll bet, _Harry thought to himself, chortling at the mental image of Hagrid trying to restrain the massive, fire-breathing creatures with poisonous stingers round their middle while Ministry workers cowered in fear.

"—we thought that would be the last of Greyback. It seems, however, he's learned a few tricks from his master and had gotten quite cunning. Like Voldemort, Greyback made sure there would be one last lifeline or descendant; however you want to put it, left in this world to continue his life's work. You see, he's left us a pair of twin werewolves."

_Let's hope they're not actually _his_, _Harry couldn't imagine who'd be the mother.

"—they're like their father in every way—"

Harry's hopes were immediately squashed.

"—so we assume either they were born werewolves or he bit them seconds after birth. You're probably wondering how to track them down—" Kinglsey quickly said before Harry can interrupt. "—But our spies tell me that they both are hiding somewhere in the country Bulgaria."

_Spies? _Harry wondered. Kingsley seemed to read his mind and elaborated.

"People that didn't exactly pass the Auror training with flying colors but still with scores high enough that we can safely deploy them off to foreign, faraway countries in search of anything out of the ordinary. This spy had an enough amount of intuition to recognize werewolf cubs when the pair sneaked out of a nearby forest on a full moon."

_To bite more people, no doubt_, Harry thought with disgust.

"Now, I trust that you know how to distinguish between a regular wolf and a werewolf? You should, what with Remus being your Dark Creatures teacher and all." Kinglsey looked questioningly at Harry, who rattled off the five signs:

"Tufted tail, smaller pupils, longer snout, and hunts alone; not in packs, live in cool climates that are hospitable to wolves. So in other words, if there are real wolves near in a cool area, there is a chance you might find a werewolf."

Kingsley clapped. "Very good, Potter, very good. Seeing that you passed your training with the highest score possible, I'm not all that surprised."

"Thank you, Minister," Harry nodded.

"Right, now details of the mission—" Kingsley took out a piece of parchment from his sleeve and read from it. "—you and four others of your choice will be departing for Bulgaria Wednesday morning, which gives you two days to prepare and pack, et cetera. You are to write a report every day, even if there is nothing out of the ordinary. The aforementioned spy will help you; his name is Denise Creevey—"

Hearing the name gave Harry a jolt of guilt; Denise's brother, Colin, thought Harry was something of a hero, a factor that might have contributed to his untimely death during the Battle of Hogwarts. He'd sneaked back into the school even though he was only 16 at the time.

Kingsley looked as if he knew what was going on in Harry's head as he said sympathetically, "He devoted his life to fighting the Dark Arts after his brother died at the hands of a Death Eater. Don't feel bad though; we're lucky to have such a committed and talented young wizard on our side." Harry nodded, feeling slightly better. The Minister continued. "He will assist you in finding the twins but will take no part in capturing and bringing them back to the Ministry. Understood?" Harry nodded again. "Understood, sir."

"We have also found out the names of the twins. The girl is named Remina and the boy is called Romulus. They both bear high resemblance to their father, but the girl is blonde, a rare occurrence in werewolf cubs. The boy is a miniature of his father, both in looks and his bloodlust for humans. They both have managed to contaminate at least twenty known humans in the last month, which is a lot for such a young age of 11. Now, we move onto the Aurors you select to go with you." Kingsley finished and looked expectantly at Harry.

"Ron." Harry said at once, without hesitation. Not only did his best friend achieve high scores on training, Harry knew him to be an accomplished dueler with lightning-fast reflexes, very vital skills to have on missions like these. However, the Minister looked a bit uncomfortable with his first choice.

"Ah…well, Harry that might not be such a good…"Kingsley's voice trailed off.

Heatedly, Harry defended his best mate. "Why not? Ron is just as good as any—"

Kingsley interrupted bluntly. "The twins' mother is Lavender Brown."


	4. Chapter 4

Harry stared dumbfounded with his jaw hanging for a moment. Blurry memories floated to the front of his mind. He was taken back in time and witnessed the events again… Lavender had fallen down from the balcony… Greyback was racing toward her…..he was thrown back by a spell cast by Hermione… But they'd never seen if she was bitten or not.

Those memories reminded him distantly of something he had experienced, himself. No, no, he was hallucinating.

He snapped his mouth closed and asked, "What's that got to do with Ron?"

Kingsley looked as though he would've given anything for this conversation to not have taken this awkward turn. "Er, well, from what I've heard, this Lavender Brown was, er, somewhat romantically involved with your friend Ronald—"

"Which means he snogged her face off in their sixth year," Ginny's voice put in coolly as she came down the stairs herself. Without turning around, she clicked her fingers and said evenly, "James, get back to your room and if you even _think_ about eavesdropping, consider your broom mine." An unseen James scurried upstairs at the threat of losing his beloved toy broomstick. Then Ginny stepped onto the carpet and walked toward them. "Hello Minister," she said cheerfully.

"Ginny, what're you doing here?" Harry muttered distractedly.

"Seeing as you're my husband and you two seem to be discussing my dear brother, I thought I might be a bit of help," Ginny explained, crossing her arms. Kingsley nodded, unfazed by Ginny's sudden appearance.

"Well, Ginny, we were just talking about Ronald and the mother of the werewolf twins."

Ginny's lips curled up in a half-smile. "Minister, just say that she's his ex-girlfriend, I wouldn't care less." The tall wizard nodded again, looking slightly more comfortable with the topic.

"As I was saying, it turned out that Ron's ex-girlfriend mothered Fenrir Greyback's young. The main reason I don't want him to go with you, Harry, it's because I'm not sure how Ron would react to her. Now, I don't mean he'd exactly soften up to her out of guilt or reminiscence, but female werewolves can be stunningly beautiful, rather like veela. Veela, I trust that you have encountered them before—"

Harry could see a smirk decorating Ginny's face. He was pretty sure that she was remembering his ludicrous behavior at the Quidditch World Cup when they were still at Hogwarts all those years ago.

"—have a unique charm to seduce men. Female werewolves are much the same, albeit only in human form. Here, I've got a picture of her."

Kingsley conjured up a colored, moving picture. Indeed, this new Lavender has forgone her curly, mouse-brown hair and hazel eyes. She now has golden-blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and an overall very attractive body, sprawled out in a suggestive position on a four-poster bed. Harry gasped. It was the woman from his dream!

Ginny noticed and said rather sharply, "What, Harry?"

Harry quickly looked away and tried to sound as natural as possible. "Nothing, Ginny. I—I was merely surprised that Lavender would look like that, because she's a werewolf and all."

Kingsley looked curiously at him, but said nothing. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Kingsley could perform Legilimency and tried to empty his mind…

_Dammit_, he cursed as the dream drifted, unbidden, to the front of his brain, but his failure didn't surprise him much. He could never perform Occlumency correctly.

"Erm…..now Harry, you have to know that this isn't a personal matter; it's business. For the sake of the mission, I would suggest that you don't bring Ron along with you." Harry sensed the unspoken reasons behind the polite recommendation and decided to go along with it.

"Then Dean, Lee, and Seamus." Harry listed off his most trusted Aurors.

"Four other people, Harry," Kingsley reminded.

_Blimey, these cubs must be dangerous if we need five Aurors! _Harry reflected. "All right, I'll take Terry Boot as well."

Ginny frowned at her husband. "What, I'm not coming?"

_No, you're not because I had a very disloyal dream that I don't want to you find out about because it would ruin our marriage when it was just a mistake!_ Harry thought. But out loud, he only said:

"No, you're not."

"And why might that be?"

"Ginny, we've been through this over and over before. I don't want to put you in danger! What happens if we both die? Our kids wouldn't have parents; they'll be orphans!" His voice cracked. The last statement was his worst fear. He didn't want his children to grow up the same way as he did, alone, never to have the pleasure to play Quidditch with him and Ginny, never to come home to exchange gifts for Christmas, or never even to sit down and eat dinner as a family. Kinglsey looked extremely awkward at this little row.

Ginny's angry expression softened. "Harry, we won't die. You've escaped Voldemort and his Death Eaters countless times; what's a couple of werewolves to you? As for me, well, haven't you always said that I produce the best Bat-Bogey Hex of all time?" She smiled at him.

Harry put his head in his hands; he could see that there's no way of changing Ginny's mind now. "Fine," his voice came out a little muffled, "I'm replacing Terry with Ginny."

Kingsley nodded a third time. "Wise choices; those are powerful wizards—"

Ginny looked indignant and Kingsley hurried to amend his statement.

"—Very powerful wizards and _witch_ with outstanding magical abilities. You're going to need every ounce of that in order to be successful on this hunt." He stood up and straightened his robes.

"Well, Harry, it would be impolite of me to linger upon your hospitality any longer. Goodbye for now, though I daresay I'd see you soon enough today," the Minister shook hands with Harry and Ginny and stepped out. They heard a loud crack as he Disapprated.

Harry and Ginny walked silently upstairs. Harry promised himself that he would never, ever dream about that woman again. Ginny was contemplating her husband's reaction to the photograph. All her doubts vanished, though, when Harry put his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head.

_Harry would never betray me_, Ginny thought, reassured.

They headed into their room to get ready for work. Harry again tried to smooth his hair down with a wet comb as Ginny said gravely, "Harry, I'll be making a reservation at St. Mungo's later."

Harry looked at his wife in confusion and she elaborated, her face deadly serious. "You know, Ron's not the fastest broom in the shed, but he's not going to like it that he's not going on a mission like this, especially over Lavender Brown." Harry's eyes widened as her remark hit home.

"Oh no," he groaned.


	5. Chapter 5

Outside the Auror office, daily life was progressing normally in the Ministry. Memos fluttered around in the golden lifts; goblins and wizards conversed in friendly tones outside the Goblin Liaison Office; Unspeakables hurried past the Department of Mysteries. There was a contented hum about the building, not unlike worker bees buzzing around busily in their hive. The first sign of disturbance was when a Maintenance worker on the ground level felt a slight vibration eight floors up. Newcomers in the Atrium could hear faint voices in the Auror Office level. As people passed the Head of Auror Department office, however, the slight vibration and faint voices gave way to the dulcet, bellowing tones belonging to a very angry, very red-faced Ronald Weasley.

"_WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M NOT GOING?_ OF COURSE I'M EFFING GOING! I'M YOUR BEST MATE! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME STAY HERE, I'LL DAMNED FOLLOW YOU IF I HAVE TO!" thundered Ron. Everyone else in the room conjured up earplugs which they stuffed in their ears in fear for a shattered eardrum. Harry winced. Ginny was right. He'd be lucky to get out alive.

"Ron please, just _calm down_ and list—" Harry tried but Ron cut across him.

"NO I WILL NOT _CALM DOWN_, POTTER! NOT UNTIL YOU TELL ME THE DAMN TRUTH ANYWAY!" he roared. Then he realized his mistake. "Oh sorry mate, you were trying to explain," he admitted sheepishly. Harry shook his head. _Hotheaded, rash, impulsive, _and_ hasty _would all be good words to describe his best friend right now.

"Right. Everybody else, you know what you should be doing," Harry dismissed Dean, Lee, and Seamus. They nodded and left, taking out their earplugs on the way. Ginny wasn't here, as not to make Ron even more jealous and argumentative. Now it looks like that was a wise choice on Harry's part. Harry was about to continue when a fellow red-haired, horned-rimmed-glasses-wearing Weasley stuck his head through the doorway. Both Ron and Harry suppressed a groan. Percy Weasley, though nowadays much less of a "Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron," in the wise words of Fred Weasley, but he was still mightily annoying and pompous.

"I heard rising voices," he stated self-importantly. "And an awful amount of ill-mannered and uncivilized language."

Ron muttered darkly so that only Harry can hear him. "And you'll be on the receiving end of them if you don't shut up and get your arse out now." Harry worked furiously to keep a straight face.

Percy noticed his peculiar contortions and haughtily inquired, "Harry, are you quite all right?" Harry swallowed back another gale of laughter and managed to answer coherently,

"Yes, no, I mean—I'm fine, Percy, I simply had a little, erm, facial spasm just now,"

Now it was Ron's turn to stuff his fist in his mouth to prevent him from roaring with laughter. Percy game him a strange look and walked away from Harry's office. "Bye Weatherby!" Ron called after his least favorite brother. They heard 'Weatherby' mutter to himself and only till he was safely out of earshot, can the two best friends break down in torrents of almost indecent laughter.

"Facial….spasm…." Ron gasped, clutching his side. Harry was laughing too hard to manage any words and simply wiped away tears of mirth.

And so the two best friends stayed that way, slumped to the ground, following their own train of thought, and occasionally letting out a snort of laughter at goodness knows what. After about ten minutes of idly sitting around, Ron realized something.

"Wait, you said that there were five Aurors, plus you, that were going on this mission. Dean, Lee, and Seamus are only three others." He said, twisting around to look at Harry.

In his giddy state, Harry forgot about his earlier apprehension. He forgot to recite the story that he spent nearly half an hour at home smoothed to perfection. He threw caution to the winds. "Oh yeah, I forgot, Ginny's going too."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry realized what he'd said. Stiffening, Harry prepared to fend off an attack that was sure to come any second. As a seasoned Auror, he began analyzing what spells Ron would use.

_Stupefy_ was a sure choice, as is _Incendio_, to set his office on fire. He might also use _Augamenti Maximus_ to flood the room, or use _Reducto_ to blast Harry to pieces. _Duro_ to turn his curtains into solid rock to crush him; _Glisseo_ to flatten his carpet and while he stumbled, _Furnunculus_ to blind him; Tripping Jinx to, well, _trip_ him; Bat-Bogey Hex to send bats after him; _Petrificus Totalus_ to bind his body, but not before _Locomotor Mortis_ to bind his legs first; _Desaugeo_ to make him grow large molars just to embarrass him; _Serpentinaus_ to do the snake spell that Malfoy used on Harry in second year.

So in short, Harry was preparing for the worst so that nothing can surprise him. As it turned out, however, Ronald Weasley can be very surprising. He stood up, dusting off his robes, wand in hand poised—Harry tensed in anticipation, gripping his wand tightly...


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Thank you so much, to anyone who reviewed/subscribed/favorite-d! I really appreciate it, what with y'all taking your valuable time to read and review this crappy story and all :D**

**XiXi Scarlet: you're my first reviewer! :D Love all the reviews with Draco, and the sassy puns ;) Thanks for the cookie, by the way. Oh also, tell Draco that I said hi, won't you? xD**

**Hushpuppy22: indeed, it's just one dream, but who knows what will happen as they get closer and closer to the actual location? ;)**

**DZAuthor AKA DZMom: I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the constructive criticism. And I'm not just saying that because I've had replies to my reviews with fake thank you's. I've taken your advice and put the characters as Harry/Ginny, though it might get lost in the throng of fics of their romance, instead of something like this. I considered putting it as Harry/Lavender; which one do you think would work out more? Also, I've decided to edit the dash and instead put the ellipsis instead. And thanks again for all the encouraging comments!**

**Disclaimer: Yes, I am **_**the**_** J.K Rowling and I do indeed own Harry Potter. Just kidding. I got you there, didn't I? C'mon, admit that I did. Anyways, I do not own Harry Potter, blah blah blah….**

**Warning: Major T at the end of this chapter…! Okay, maybe not that major but more T-rated than any other chapters.**

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><p>…To pick his nose. "Ginny Weasley? My sister?" Ron asked foggily.<p>

"No, Ginny Potter, my wife." Harry answered, hoping that in Ron's light-headed condition he won't be able to tell the difference. Wand still deep in nostril, Ron appeared to be in deep concentration, brow furrowed.

"But...didn't my sister marry you?"

Harry shrugged vaguely, stalling for as long as possible. Ron shrugged too. "Ah, who cares? But, if she comes back with as much of a hair missing from her left or right nostril, you'll have me to deal with. Not to mention Dad, Mum, Bill, Charlie, George and maybe even Percy," Ron added.

_A hair missing from her _nostril? Harry was bewildered. "Ron, did you have any firewhiskey this morning?" Harry asked suspiciously. Ron turned to face him, a foolish grin etched on his freckled face.

"No, have you got any?" Harry thought about this for a second. Then he raised his waved and said, "_Accio whiskey_!"

A dusty bottle and two glasses flew toward them. They each caught a glass which Harry filled with the drink. Raising they glasses, each seem to be at a loss for what to toast for, till a brilliant idea hit Harry. "To Percy Weatherby!"

In unison, they drained their glasses, Ron chortling and slopping a bit down his front. Glancing down at his soaked shirt, Ron muttered, "Hermione'll kill me if she finds out that I've been drinking on the job." Immediately, he became much more alert at the terrifying mental image of Hermione's fury.

"Oh, dammit, Harry! What am I going to do?" Ron fussed, running his hands through his hair in worry. Harry, who was sitting back to back with him, was dreamily twirling his wand, admiring the colorful sparks that flew out of the tip. Ron watched him for a while, fuming at the uselessness of the Chosen One when he needed him most. Then something about that image hit him. He pulled out his own wand and kissed it. "Of course, we have wands. I bloody forgot we could do magic. _Scourify_!" he pointed his wand down his shirt and it was clean at once.

Harry shook his head at Ron's forgetfulness. He set down his empty glass and mused, "We're an odd bunch, aren't we? I mean, one second you were yelling your head off with some—what was it again?"

Harry paused here to repeat what Percy had said about his brother's foul mouth.

"Oh yeah, with an 'awful amount of ill-mannered and uncivilized language' and the next we're drinking whiskey together." He finished, scratching his head thoughtfully.

Ron's eyes were glazed and he was following a weak ray of flickering sunshine out the window. His behavior rather reminded Harry of fifth year, when they'd gone to the Department of Mysteries together to rescue Sirius, and a pair of brains had got ahold of Ron. The only aspect missing was the random mumbling. As soon as that thought was out, however, Ron started muttering broken phrases and words under his breath that weren't to be uttered in company and had Hermione been there, Ron would've undoubtedly be hopping up and down in Harry's office now clutching a bruised shin. Or perhaps a fist squarely to the jaw, as she'd done to Draco Malfoy in third year—

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed suddenly, making Harry leap up and knock over his bottle of whiskey and his glass. He cursed as he trod on the sharp, scattered shards of glass, not to mention drenching the hems of his robes and his shoes in a small puddle of whiskey. Employing some of his Uncle Vernon's choice words—although the man was horrible to Harry all his life, he did have some rather remarkable swears; come to think of it, maybe Harry's the reason why the man cursed like there was no tomorrow—Harry dried his robes and shoes.

"Harry James Potter," Ron had pulled out his wand and was pointing it directly at his best friend's chest, the very man who he had sat back to back with just a few seconds ago.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," Harry took a brave stab at humor. Which just made Ron glower all the harder. Harry was pretty sure there was a hole in the front of his robes, burning right through him and drilling a spot through the wall; Ron's glare was that intense.

"Harry James Potter," Ron repeated, not lowering his wand. Still vainly trying to lighten up the situation, Harry replied,

"That's my name. Can I help you?"

"Do you mean to say, that my sister is going on this mission, but not me?" Ron asked in a deadly voice. Harry gulped. "Answer me now!" Ron snarled.

"Ron, it's nothing personal, it's just that she was ready the hex me and Kingsley was there and—" Harry babbled at top speed hoping to get the whole story out. Ron cut across him.

"She was ready to hex you? That's why you let her come on the mission?" Ron laughed humorlessly. "Potter, I always thought you a brave hero who acted for the best. Now I know better. You're nothing but a COWARD!" Ron bellowed the last word. "Have you thought, before you let her come, that she's my baby sister? Or how Mum will react when she finds out that you pushed her precious daughter into such a dangerous situation? No you didn't. You just let her come because she was _ready to hex you_. You, killer of Voldemort, destroyer of Horcruxes, couldn't face up to a girl—" Ron's sentence was never finish because he suddenly found himself hoisted up against the wall, lifted by the throat, Harry's livid face inches from his own.

"Now you listen to me and you listen good, Ronald Weasley." Harry hissed. "You know as well as I that Ginny is perfectly capable of defending herself and others. She's not some useless, sissy girl that goes running when there's trouble; in fact, she's anything but. Just the fact that she's a _girl_ means nothing. It's a damned empty excuse. Girls do just as well as us men, sometimes even better. Ginny is my wife and your sister and if you don't know by now that she's a strong, independent human being, then you don't deserve to be her brother." Harry relinquished his death grip on Ron's neck and let him crumple down to the floor. With a pure look of contempt at his best friend, the man who he had formerly held a certain amount of respect, Harry marched out of his office, leaving a partially demolished office, a broken pile of glass soaking in whiskey, and a very dazed and very confused Ron.

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><p>While the fight between the two friends occurred in London, a fight of a different kind was taking place in Sofia, Bulgaria. In England, it was merely a squabble under the influence of alcohol, but the battle in Bulgaria was a whole another Quidditch game.<p>

"_Stupefy_!" A young, tall wizard cried desperately, pointing his wand at a pair of hunched, dark figures closing in on him. Despite the mud caked on his face and arms and the torn, tattered robes, this was a wizard of significant skill. One of the figures fell down, but the other advanced, ignoring its fallen colleague.

"_Petrificus Totalus!" _ Dennis Creevey shouted and a burst of light flew out the tip of his wand, only to be blocked by a non-verbal spell from his rival. In response, the figure sent a jet of Fiendfyre his way and Dennis jumped aside, the cursed flames roaring where his torso had been only a split second before. Stumbling on the rough terrain, he tried to match the Dark spell with one of his own.

"_Incendio_!"

The spell was uttered with so much power that the air around it rippled and the ground cracked open, charred and burnt. However, when it neared the creature, it transformed into a thin wisp of smoke and dissolved into the smoky air. Dennis gaped at where his solid column of fire had been a moment ago. The advancing figure finally came into view and when it did, Dennis almost dropped his wand in shock.

It was no longer hunched and dark, but stood tall and beautiful. Her honey blonde hair could rival veelas, as could her twinkling blue eyes. She had the demeanor of a seventeen-year-old at Hogwarts, but her looks were beyond that of a grown woman. Dennis stood rooted to the spot and the girl came closer and closer, her long hair flowing around her bare shoulders. Dennis swallowed and focused his entire mind on averting his eyes, but some mysterious power made them shift from the girl's face to her unclothed body. His eyes hungrily drank in her naked breasts, slim waist, and shapely legs. When he finally raised his eyes again, their noses were almost touching. He was drowning in her deep eyes, without a care in the world. Slowly their lips touched. Dennis was still stunned and didn't hear when the spell was cast. He was losing consciousness…..his last memory was of the soft, pink lips of the unknown girl. Then he passed out and everything was black.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I like to do my AN's at the beginning of a chapter. Dunno why, since most people I know do it at the end. This is also completely irrelevant to what I wanted to say.**

**THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! These reviews are like my lifelines, especially now that my parents have banned me from writing T.T **

**XiXi Scarlet: What gives you the impression that I am a Muggle? All right, so my Pottermore email hasn't come yet, but I'm sure that's just one of Dobby's distant relatives. I will hurt anyone who says otherwise glares around threateningly But thanks for the hug Draco :D By the way, did you ever notice that Sirius' initials spell S.O.B? Weird isn't it xD**

**Zireael07: Thanks :D Yes, poor Lavender indeed. What of the cubs?**

**DZAuthor aka DZMom: Yes, I Googled it, and it indeed is Dennis, instead of Denise. I think I've got all the spots edited out in Chapter Six, but if I happened to miss one, please tell me! I've written all his appearances in this chapter as Dennis, I think. Thanks also for the pairing ideas, but as I don't exactly how this story will go, I'll just wait until it all plays out to name the characters. Then, I'll probably use one of your ideas :D**

**Yes, I'm done jabbering now. Here is the chapter.**

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><p>Hermione was quietly reading when the doorknob rattled. Jumping up, she grabbed her wand and pointed it at the intruder.<p>

"Who's there?" She called out. Twelve years after, but you still never know when evil might come a-knocking, especially being a member of the Golden Trio and all.

"Geez, Hermione," A familiar voice complained. "It's just, me, Ginny."

"Show yourself," Hermione didn't lower her wand; she was only too familiar with the effects of Polyjuice Potion and the Imperius Curse and whatnot.

"You'll never relax your guard, would you? Fine, I am Ginevra Molly Potter, nee Weasley, the only daughter of Molly and Arthur Weasley. You married my older brother, Ronald Bilius Weasley and I married your best friend, Harry James Potter. Our children's names are James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna. My Patronus takes the shape of a horse and yours takes the shape of an otter."

"Come in then," Hermione put her wand back down. Ginny walked in, looking disgruntled.

"I think you're taking constant vigilance a bit too far," the redhead sighed. "I know, I know, Harry and I are going to go get a pair of werewolf cubs, but seriously?"

"Ginny, when you get to my age, then you'll understand," Hermione said in a fake-serious voice. Ginny laughed and shoved her best friend. "So what did you really come for?"

"Advice,"

"Usually you're the one who gives me advice," Hermione joked. "But what's up?"

"I can't really explain," Ginny groaned, massaging her forehead. "Some days I feel great but then the next second I'm close to biting poor Harry's head off,"

"Nothing new then," Hermione teased, but the look on her friend's face ended her laugh before it even started.

"No, I'm serious, really, Hermione, I need your help. I don't know what's happening!" Ginny finished with a frustrated stomp of her foot. Hermione set down her book and wrapped her arms around Ginny.

"You probably heard this a lot, coming from me, but the best advice I can give you is—"

"—To relax, I know, Hermione," Ginny said in a weary voice. Hermione smiled.

"Just give Lily to Mrs. Weasley for a few nights, and if you want, I can handle the boys. Order out, instead of cooking," Hermione suggested. "That'll take the stress right off."

"All right," Ginny agreed, though a bit dubiously. "But, I dunno, the kids are fine, it's Harry that I can't stand these days."

"What? Why?" Hermione perked up. "If he hurt you in anyway, I'm going to hex his—"

"Relax, Mione," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Nothing like that. It's just that, things that he does, which I used to consider sweet, just annoys the hell out of me now. Like the other day, he poured my milk for me in the morning and I—I don't know what got into me, but I just got so angry, like I thought he thought that I couldn't pour my own milk!" Ginny fumed at herself. "What's happening? Harry's done nothing wrong but I can't stop myself from snapping at him."

"That sounds….familiar," Hermione said thoughtfully, tapping her chin.

"Familiar, how?"

"Well, it happens during my time of month, for starters,"

"But my PMS isn't until week after next!"

"And sometimes when I don't get enough sleep, then Ron's on the receiving end of my crabbiness."

"Lily's been fine, and the boys sleep like there's no tomorrow."

"Maybe you should tell Harry how you feel," Hermione looked at her friend concernedly. "Or should I?"

"No, don't bother him with trivial things like my mood swings," Ginny sighed. "He's leading the mission and all; I don't want him to worry more than he has to."

"Now that you mention it, Ron's been acting like he's got PMS too," Hermione remarked. "That can't have anything to do with Harry not bringing him on the mission, can it?"

"No, of course not," Ginny answered sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes fondly.

"Gin, if you're still capable of sarcasm, then nothing's too bad."

Ginny nodded, considering this. "I suppose…"

"Just rest as much as you can, because I don't think you'll be getting too much of that once the mission starts."

"Thank you so much, Hermione." Ginny hugged her sister-in-law. "And not a word of this to Harry, all right?"

Hermione sighed. "Oh, all right, but I still think you should tell him—"

"No," Ginny answered determinedly. "He's got enough on his plate already,"

"But I don't really think you and him should keep secrets from each other…" Hermione started but got cut off by the doorbell ringing.

"Who is it?" She called.

"It's Harry!" A voice called.

"Show yourself," Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione, who shook her head.

"I, Harry James Potter, husband of Ginevra Molly Potter, father of James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna, have come to call upon Hermione Jean Weasley, nee Granger, who is the wife of Ronald Bilius Weasley, who is also our best friend." Harry recited.

"All right, come in," Ginny opened the door.

"Hey Ginny, what are you doing here?" Harry asked, sitting down on the couch.

"What, so I can't visit my sister-in-law now?" Ginny rolled her eyes and kissed her husband. Hermione averted her eyes and sighed.

"So, Harry, what'd you come for?" she sighed.

"What, I can't visit my sister-in-law now?" Harry joked, tousling Ginny's hair. She forced a smile and shot Hermione a look that said, _See, this is what I mean._

_ I see….._Hermione thought. "Any particular reason?" She asked. Harry looked embarrassed.

"Er…..is Ron home?" He asked awkwardly. It had been a day since the row they had at the Ministry, and things weren't looking good.

"I actually don't know where he is," Hermione frowned. "Probably at the Leaky Cauldron making himself sick with firewhiskey."

"Tell him I said sorry," Harry muttered.

"If he's the man that we all know and love, you shouldn't be apologizing to him," Hermione said firmly. "From what I heard, it's mostly his fault."

"It's _all_ his fault," Ginny muttered.

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed. "I've had my share of bad decisions in this too, you know."

"I do know," His wife snapped, jumping up. "Because you've made plenty of them in my presence!"

With that, she stomped toward the door and yanked it open, storming out then Disapparating on the spot. Harry stared, open-mouthed.

"What was hell that about?" He asked incredulously. Hermione sighed. She did not like to be stuck between something like this.

"Just listen to me, and be nice," She whispered under her breath, as if Ginny could hear her.

"But I am!" Harry was confused by all this. It was like being with Cho all over again. "I get her breakfast and everything."

"Yes, I know," Hermione stifled a sigh. "But you got to know when to let her do it, and when to help her."

"But—what?"

Hermione fought down the urge to whack him around the head. "It's hormones, Harry! You know, a woman's mood swings?"

Realization dawned on Harry's face. "Oh."

"Yep," Hermione said grimly. "Be grateful that you're male."

"Hormones," Harry said to himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Hermione sighed. Her best friend could be truly stupid at times.

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><p>Dennis forced open his eyes. He was lying on a cushiony mattress, with a downy blanket over his bare chest; whoever had brought him here had taken his clothes. He surveyed the unfamiliar room and instinctively reached for his wand. It wasn't there. Somewhat worried, he tried to sit up and promptly fell back down again, his head spinning. Right before his head hit the pillow, a tall, willowy figure hurried in. she was vaguely familiar, but Dennis couldn't imagine where he had seen this stunning girl.<p>

"Hello," She laughed. "I see you've woken up."

"Where am I?" He asked, not bothering with pleasantries, though he felt slightly ashamed that he was being so indifferent to the girl.

"In my house," She bustled around the bed, making sure the ends of the blankets were properly tucked in and that his pillows were nicely fluffed up. Then she used a wand to pour some tea. _Aha,_ Dennis thought. _So she's a witch._

"How did I get here?" He asked. The slight worry he felt before was now turning into a sense of distinct unease. The fact that his captors could do magic only made the situation more complicated; clearly, they had known that he could do magic so therefore, they were comfortable with displaying it around him. His brain digested this information thoughtfully.

"I found you passed out on the streets on my way to the market," She answered. "So I brought you back home for my mother to give you something for heatstroke."

It was a very good cover story, but Dennis had been taught in his training to never trust anyone except known allies on a mission. "Where's my wand?" He tried again.

"Right here," She pulled it out of a pocket. He made to take it from her, but the girl only withdrew it. "Now, now, you've only just woken up; we don't want you destroying anything with your wand, do we?"

"I'm fine," He insisted. "Thank you for you and your mother's hospitality, but I do need to get going now."

"Why not stay a little bit longer?" She pouted, he dark blue eyes almost overflowing with sadness. Dennis felt a pang. A feeling of despair sprang up in him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset—" he began.

"No, no, that's all right. I understand." The girl turned away, but not before Dennis saw a lone teardrop sparkling on her cheek. "Let me show you the way out, but it would mean the world if you can stay, only if for a day."

A worm of doubt entered his mind. The girl seemed to sense that and widened her blue eyes, her small mouth puckered hopefully.

"All right," Dennis relented. "Just one day. But no more."

"Oh yes?" Her perfect, pink lips turned up in a small smirk. "I think you'll change your mind soon."

"What do you mean?" Dennis stammered, completely distracted by the fact that the girl was climbing into the bed, right next to him. She molded her body to his, so that he could feel every curve, every womanly place of it. With a snap of her fingers, her garments disappeared, leaving the two of them together in the bed, nude.

"I think we both know the answer to that," She chuckled lightly. Then her lips were upon his, and Dennis, for the second time, knew no more.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: AHHH! SO sorry for not updating in like a month. I had major writer's block on this story and wasn't exactly sure as to what to do next. Now I'm back and hopefully I'll be updating more frequently than before. Enjoy Chapter Eight!**

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><p>"Ginny!" Harry called as he threw a toothbrush into his pack. It was Wednesday, and the frenzy in the house was worse than usual. First, James was caught trying to get Albus to make an Unbreakable Vow. Then, Lily coughed up her breakfast, making a big mess in the dining room. Now, Ginny was nowhere to be seen, though Harry had a slight inkling as to her location. And sure enough, as he pushed open the bathroom door in their room, she was there again, kneeling by the toilet.<p>

"Gin, are you all right?" Harry asked concernedly. She shook her head, looking queasy. "Ginny, it's almost time to go. Do you want me to pack for you?"

"I'm fine, Harry!" She snapped, making him jump. "Stop treating me like a baby!"

"I just wanted to help!" Harry defended himself. "So…you have about ten minutes, then we're heading to the Ministry to meet the others."

"And you tell me now?" Ginny snarled, jumping up. "Cutting it pretty fine, isn't it?"

Harry bit back sarcastic comments. "Look, Ginny. I don't know why you're so crabby these days, but you know, I'm trying to help!"

"Maybe you should try a little bit harder then!" She retorted then shoved past him, leaving Harry to clean up the vomit.

"Women," Harry growled. "Why did I choose her over Cho again? Oh right. It was because she wasn't as emotional as Cho. At least, she wasn't before…"

"I HEARD THAT!" came a screech from the living room. Harry cursed under his breath. This was turning out to be quite a morning.

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><p>"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Ginny screamed, heading ferociously towards her husband's study. Blasting the doors open with her wand, she loomed above him.<p>

"Yes, Gin?" he asked warily. She glared at him for a few seconds, then dropped her murderous expression.

"I need to owl Hermione," she muttered to herself and exited the room again, leaving a confused Harry to fix his study doors.

"Mummy!" Lily squealed, shooting out from her room. "James took my teddy bear!"

"Then get it from him!" Ginny all but snarled, shaking her leg free of her daughter then stormed to her bedroom. First Lily didn't seem to understand what just happened. Then tears began to pool in the little girl's eyes and her bottom lip quivered; her mother had never spoken so harshly to her before. Her father came from behind her and gently scooped her up.

"What's wrong, Lily-flower?" he asked softly, running his hand through her red curls.

"Mummy yelled at me," she sniffed, a teardrop splashing down on her dress.

"Don't worry about that," Harry told her. "She didn't mean it."

Lily sniffed again, and for a few moments, father and daughter sat together, gazing sadly after the most important woman in both their lives.

"Daddy," Lily began. "Will Mummy be okay?"

"I don't know, sweetie," Harry answered with a heavy heart. "I really don't know."

* * *

><p>Hermione watched wearily as her fireplace turned emerald again, then a few moments later emitting a disheveled Ginny into her living room. Shaking the ashes off, she staggered to her side and dropped her head into her hands.<p>

"Hermione," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I think I'm—"

Before she could finish her sentence, the door flew open and her brother tripped in, holding a half-empty whiskey bottle. His clothes were grimy and his eyes were rimmed with red. Long whiskers decorated his face and his hair looked as if it hadn't seen soap and water for days on end. Hermione stood up and made an apologetic face to her sister-in-law.

"Sorry Gin," she said grimly. "Let me deal with our dearest Ronald first."

* * *

><p>Harry watched despairingly as the hands on his watch ticked closer and closer to nine. Heaving a sigh, he knocked uncertainly on his bedroom door, hoping that Ginny would be inside, packed and ready to go. When his knock went unheeded, Harry let all those hopes drop. Opening the door, he resigned himself to packing all her needs and necessities when he saw a small patch of parchment on the nightstand. A three-worded note was written on there:<p>

"_Going to Hermione's,_"he read out loud. "Oh, for the love of Merlin."

"What's with her these days?" he wondered to himself as he threw a lace bra into her empty suitcase.

"What's with _who_ these days?" A venomous voice repeated from behind him. Harry spun around. There stood Ginny, arms tightly crossed and face wild. Harry gulped.

"I thought you knew better, Harry!" she yelled. "I thought you'd understand!"

"Understand what?" he asked, bewildered.

"Women! I thought you understood women!"

"Are you joking?" he said incredulously. "Women are probably the one thing that I'll never understand."

That was the wrong thing to say. Ginny twisted around and literally pounded out the room, though not before shooting her signature Bat-Bogey Hex behind her at Harry. He let loose a long string of swears and finally managed to repel the bats. Looking sadly at the doorway, Harry continued packing, wondering what exactly his wife had meant by that.

* * *

><p>"If she doesn't show up, I'm done for," Harry muttered, checking his watch yet again. He stood at the entrance of the Ministry, hefting two large suitcases with magic. He'd dropped off the kids at the Burrow, ate a hasty breakfast, and penned a quick letter to Hermione descripting his and Ginny's current situation. But now, he's been waiting for what seemed like eons and she still wasn't here. The other Aurors milled around, chatting and discussing the mission. Harry gazed at them, though not really seeing them. His mind was on Ginny and her peculiar mood swings. He thought he'd be rid of them forever after Lily's birth, but evidently he had thought wrong.<p>

"There!" Dean shouted, pointing to Harry's left. Hermione popped out of thin air, then Ginny. Ginny went straight for her suitcase, not once even glancing at Harry. Hermione came for Harry with concern on her face.

"I saw your letter," she told him in a low voice. "The thing is, I think I might know what's going on with her—"

"Really?" Harry asked eagerly; he could've kissed his best friend right there and then, but decided not to for Ginny and Ron's sakes. "I knew you'd work it out."

Hermione looked at him with a mixture of bemusement and gloominess. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I need to know all that I can to help her through this—whatever she's going through right now."

Hermione looked at him again, with that strange look. "I don't think you can, Harry,"

"What do you mean?" He demanded. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Harry, I think she's—"

"Potter!" A deep voice called, startling Harry and Hermione from their whispered conversation. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood, looking appraisingly at all of them. Hermione broke away from Harry and went to Ginny, hissing some last-minute things to her. "Well, you are leaving in little less than two minutes, via Portkey. Remember: report every day and keep your ears open and eyes peeled. Most important, trust Dennis. He's our only ally in this. Understood?"

"Understood, sir," Harry, Dean, Lee, and Seamus echoed. Ginny remained silent, still listening to Hermione.

"Well, let's not waste time. Gather 'round, people." He then brought out an old Potions vial that looked for the world exactly like, well, an old Potions vial, save for the fact that it was glowing bright blue. All five of them crowded around it, struggling to get a finger in. Hermione hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek, but before he could ask her about what she was going to say before, she dashed away and hugged Ginny as well. Then she stood back, smiling and waving at them.

Harry felt a distinct jerk in his navel, and he was sucked into the darkness. His last thought before his eyes shut instinctively was _I'm on my own with Ginny and her hormones now._


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: And what do you know, I go MIA for another month. This story is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought…**

* * *

><p>Harry stretched out on his cot, one arm over his eyes. It's been almost a month since they had arrived at the outskirts of Sofia, Bulgaria, and he had come to loathe and despise when the time was due for the daily report. <em>Nothing ever happens,<em> he thought hazily, and immediately bashed himself. He couldn't afford to let his guard down now, especially on a mission as dangerous as this. Of course, the word 'danger' was only theoretical.

Groaning, he got up and lumbered towards his desk in the small, stuffy tent. Out of habit, he glanced out towards Ginny's tent. The window latch was closed shut. Grunting, he set to work on the tedious report, but his mind drifted to his aloof and venomous wife.

_"For the love of Merlin, Harry!" she yelled. "I know how to set up a damn tent!"_

_"But you need to place protective spells around it—" he protested. _

_"I went through two and a half bloody years of Auror training, Harry. I _know_, all right?"_

_"All right," he muttered, retreating into his own tent. "Well, carry on with your own business!" he snapped at the others, who had grouped around him and Ginny. _

And that was only the first day. Harry cursed as he blotted a spot on the parchment. Rubbing his unshaven chin, he set down the quill and mentally reviewed what Hermione had told him, moments before departing. Ginny was pregnant, he was sure, from both Hermione's counsel and from his wife's own impressive display of hormone-ridden behavior. But she hadn't talked to him since the row on the first day, and whenever Harry approached her, she would swerve away and strike up conversation with Dean Thomas. It didn't help that Dean was one of her ex-boyfriends. In fact, Harry was sure that Dean had never really forgiven him for taking Ginny away, no matter how he acts. Heaving a weary sigh, he ran his hands through his hair, and rubbed his bloodshot eyes, resting his head on the desk.

"Hey, Harry," Dennis entered the tent, taking a hearty swig from his waterskin. "I've got news for you."

"Yeah?" Harry sat upright again. "What is it?"

"Tonight's the full moon," he began. "I think we should make a move."

"How?" Harry asked dubiously. "We don't know whether the cubs would return to the forest where you first sighted them again."

"I'm pretty sure their home, whatever that may be, is in the forest,"

"You're pretty sure."

"Yes. I think we should post a patrol outside of the forest tonight, and wait for the cubs to show up."

Harry considered this, brow furrowed. "Will you be there?"

Dennis looked apologetic. "Sorry, no. My Muggle workplace is hosting a summer party, for my boss's daughter, I believe."

"I understand. You do have a cover to uphold, after all. Right, gather together the others and we'll discuss this. I'll get Ginny myself," he added, to Dennis's terrified expression.

"Ah, thanks, Harry! Good luck!" He clapped Harry on the back.

"I'll need it," he muttered to himself. "Well, in case I don't make it back alive, make sure to send Hermione and Ron and my kids my love, yeah? And thank Mrs. Weasley for so kind to me over the years as well."

"You got it," Dennis winked.

* * *

><p>"Ginny?" Harry called, sticking his head hesitantly in, raising the flap. "Gin? You there?"<p>

"'Course I'm here, Harry," he heard a voice grumble. "What do you want?"

"Can't I have a little time with my wife?" he entered.

"No," she snarled. "Just kidding, love. What do you need?"

"You're in a better mood today," Harry remarked, and immediately wished he hadn't.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, a dark edge to her sweet tone.

"Nothing. So how're you feeling lately?" Harry hurriedly changed the topic.

Ginny sighed. "Hermione told you, huh?"

"Well, sort of. I figured out the actual part by myself," Harry confessed.

"You figured out that I have an insensitive arsehole for a husband whose emotional range is even smaller than Ron Weasley's?"

"Yeh—what?" Harry was bewildered. "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"And whose fault is that?" she nearly screamed at him.

"M-mine," Harry stuttered. "Ginny, look. That isn't something I can control—!"

"Sorry, Harry," she said, and suddenly all her wrath was gone. "What did you come here for again?"

Not sure if his wife was going to explode again, Harry ventured cautiously, "We've got a meeting to discuss tactics. Let's go."

Ginny groaned as she slowly got up, and Harry could see that the area around her bed was littered with chocolate wrappers. He kept the thought to himself, being the wiser thing to do. Instead, he said, "Why didn't you share some chocolate with me?"

Ginny laughed lightly; Harry had almost forgotten what that sounded like. "You're not the pregnant one," she elbowed him. "Are you?"

"Harry!" Seamus called as they approached. "You survived!"

Ginny gave him a vehement glare. "Keep talking and you won't."

"Sorry." Seamus shot back into the tent. Ginny leaned her head on Harry's shoulder, then jerked back.

"What?" Harry asked.

She wrinkled her nose. "You need to shave."

* * *

><p>"See ya, Dennis!" Lee called. Harry waved to him, and a second later, he was gone. Turning back to Seamus, Dean, Lee, and Ginny, he took a deep breath.<p>

"Right. I'll lead the patrol, of course. Dean, Seamus, you come with me. Lee and Ginny, you hold down the fort here."

"Yes, sir!" Lee said. "Although it's not like they know we're here anyway."

Ginny looked at him. "All right, Harry."

"See you later," Harry said, and the three of them Disapparated. A moment of sucking darkness later, they were standing in front of the dark forest.

"So you two made up, have you?" Dean didn't sound particularly excited about it.

"Yes, we have. Right. Seamus, to the left side. Dean, to the right. I'll take the center. Remember, we are only here to confirm that the cubs' lair is indeed here. Do not attempt to take it on alone, and even if you happen to bump into each other, don't try it either. When you see them, return to me. Understood?"

"Understood!" Seamus and Dean positioned themselves under Harry's command. Harry himself pulled his cloak tighter about himself and prepared to stand vigil for the rest of the night.

At around midnight, a pair of dark figures came into view. Harry cursed and mentally cast a Disillusion Charm, and prayed to Merlin that Dean and Seamus had the sense to do so as well. Holding his breath, he watched through narrowed eyes as the two prowled forward, clearly still human. A moment later, they disappeared into the wild foliage of the forest, and Harry released his breath. Their job here was done.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, the real Dennis Creevey was chained in the dank cellar of the mansion. Hearing the heavy bolt on the door groan, he lifted his head up defiantly and watched himself walk in. At least, the person looked like himself before the Polyjuice Potion wore off and he changed back into a tall, human girl.<p>

"Hello, Dennis," she smiled. Dennis glared back.

"What're you up to? Why are you keeping me here?" he asked yet again. The girl made a small noise with her tongue.

"So many questions," she hissed. "Well, I'm afraid I can't answer them."

"Tell where you were before you came here, and why you needed my hair for the Polyjuice."

"Oh, that," she cackled delightfully. "Hmm. I was at the Auror camp—such a windblown, dusty place—and I needed your hair for the potion because obvious I needed to look like you, and no matter how good-looking you are, that isn't a feat that can be accomplished without the aid of magic."

"Auror camp?" Dennis asked, a horrible suspicious dawning on him.

"Yep," the girl said offhandedly. "Harry Potter and four others, one of them a pregnant woman that's his wife, here to investigate Romulus and Remina."

"Harry Potter's here?" Dennis breathed. "Dammit!"

"Yes, rather unfortunate, isn't it? The Boy Who Lived would be a good candidate for one of our number, but since he's come to meddle, Mother's going to kill him instead."

"Who's your mother? Is she a werewolf as well?"

"She's only my mother in name," the girl's pretty face hardened. "And yes, she is a werewolf. And I'm human, living in a nest full of wolves."

"Why do you help them then?" Dennis shot back. "They can turn and attack you anytime!"

"I am aware of that." she stood and smiled cruelly. "Well, until we meet again, Dennis. But if you'll forgive me…" she yanked a fistful of dark hair from his head, causing his eyes to water in pain. "Sorry again," she apologized emotionlessly and walked out of the cellar, the thick door closing with a loud bang.

* * *

><p>"Well, that was productive," Harry yawned as they headed back into the camp. "We need to investigate again next month, and only then can we actually attack."<p>

"You got it, boss," Seamus mumbled sleepily. Harry sighed.

"Go get some sleep, Seamus. And when you wake up, don't call me boss."

"Right, boss," Dean joked. Harry raised his wand threateningly and they both dashed—figuratively speaking—for their tents.

"How did it go, boss?" Dennis called.

"I see you're back," Harry grumbled. "It went fine, but I'd to ruin the mission by killing two of my Aurors and my spy."

"Then don't," Ginny came out of her tent, wincing. "I'd hate for my husband to land himself in Azkaban when he's needed at home," she gave him a meaningful look.

"Of course not," Harry agreed. "But if only the two Aurors and spy behave themselves accordingly."

"Oh all right. Bosses, no sense of humor at all," he added under his breath.

"Oi, watch it," Harry warned.

"Better go write your report now, boss!" Dennis called, running away.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I swear I won't leave it for a month again. Maybe a week, or two weeks, but not a month. Instead, I'll leave it for two months! Haha, just joking. Have a safe and happy New Year's! Don't get pregnant and don't do drugs! Bye! <strong>

**~Gella**


	10. Chapter 10

Harry rubbed his eyes and took another swig of the energy-replenishing potion that Seamus had brewed for the entire team. He was becoming more and more reliant on that, and as a result, receiving less and less hours of sleep. That wasn't the case for tonight. Every detail of the mission had been carefully planned out over the past weeks, which meant Harry could finally get some rest tonight. With unusual serenity, he slipped into dreamland and found himself in his unfinished Quidditch dream.

_He almost got the Snitch…he strained his whole body and leaned forward on his broom. His fingers brushed the cool, metal covering…and YES! Gryffindor won! Harry flew a lap around the pitch, arms raised in triumph. Vaguely, he remembered this to be the last game of the season. That means Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup! Everyone screamed and cheered, except for the Slytherins, who were quite audibly cracking their knuckles and promising revenge as they dismounted and headed for their locker room. Harry landed, expecting the usual group hug from his team, but something was wrong. Katie Bell clapped her hands over her mouth, and Angelina backed away in horror. Oliver came forward, half in concern, half in shock, reaching hesitantly for Harry's shoulder._

_"What's wrong?" Harry heard himself ask, and looked down at his body and immediately understood why his teammates' reactions. Instead of his scarlet Quidditch robes, he was covered head to toe in thick, gray fur. He gasped in horror as his hands morphed into claws and his nails grew long and curved. Suddenly, he was no longer seeing the world through human eyes. No, these were the gleaming, luminous eyes of a wolf. Letting out a roar, he reared up on his hind legs and snapped his teeth. People scattered, screaming and pushing over each other to get away from him, the monster. But Harry was not interested in those insignificant students. He dropped down to all fours and loped away, tireless pushing his strong, muscular legs and racing across the Hogwarts grounds. Once out of the castle's protective boundaries, he switched back to human form and Apparated, landing in a straggly dark forest. The wolf raced across the thorns and roots, disappearing into the thickets of trees. As the night swallowed up the landscape, he, Harry, curled up in a trunk, and drifted off to sleep with the long, soulful howls of his kin in his ears. _

"Harry!" A voice hissed urgently in his ear. "Harry, get up. We have an intruder."

"Wha—?" he mumbled, turning over. Seamus's worried face peered down on him, illuminated by the bright beam of moonlight.

"An intruder," Seamus repeated. "Get up, now."

As Harry rolled up and grabbed his jacket, he felt something vague pushing at the back of his mind. He was sure that it had something to do with the dream he just had, but he couldn't quite place it. Following Seamus, he joined Dean, Dennis, and a half-asleep Ginny at the boundary of the camp. There was a distinct sound of footsteps in the dry field, and Harry thought he could make out a tall figure circling the camp. A small light floated in front of him, and was approaching the camp with alarming speed and accuracy.

"On my count," he whispered to them, "Stun him and drag him in."

"What if it's a wolf?" Dean whispered back. "They aren't that easily overpowered."

"Then we'll just have to combine our spells." Harry took a deep breath. "One, two, THREE!"

"STUPEFY!" Five jets of red light flew towards the figure. It fell to the ground with a thud, and Seamus rushed out and returned, lugging the man in. Harry gestured for them to go into the main tent, and lit the tip of his wand. In the dim candlelight, he could see a tuft of red hair protruding from a dark hood, curling around the man's ears, and a small object, shaped like a Muggle lighter, clenched in his hand. Ginny was the first to recognize him. With a small cry, she yanked off the hood. Harry's eyes widened.

"_Ron_?"

"Ron? As in Weasley?" Seamus gasped. "Merlin, I'd know that hair anywhere! It _is_ him!"

"_Ennervate_!" Harry gave his cheek a light slap. "Ron, mate? Can you hear me?"

He got no response.

"Try tickling him," Ginny suggested. "Behind the ear."

Ron didn't even twitch.

"Well, that was a pretty strong Stunner," Dean said, scratching his neck. "He'll probably be out for a while."

"In that case, let's leave him here," Dennis, who had remained silent all this time, spoke up. "When he wakes up, you bet that we'll know."

There was a look about him that made Harry uneasy, but nevertheless, the five trooped out and back into their separate tents. Before Harry could duck under the flap, however, a hand caught his arm. Dennis.

"Harry, what is he doing here?" he asked tensely.

"I don't know either, Dennis. I didn't tell him to come and find us, if that's what you were thinking," Harry added. "Let's ask him when he comes round."

"Harry, did you notice the small thing in his hand? That was a Deluminator. The light we saw earlier came from it, and it was leading him to camp—"

"Dennis, calm down," Harry said. "I know Ron had a Deluminator, it's saved my life and his many times. It's nothing to worry about."

"But if that could reveal our location so easily, I'd hate to imagine what would happen if our enemies were to find it," Dennis said, glaring in the direction of the main tent.

"So you're saying Ron's our enemy?" Harry asked, reasonably calm.

"No, Harry. I'm saying that might not be Ron at all. Think about it. Polyjuice Potion is not all that hard to come by, even easier to brew. What if that is a man posing to be your best friend and Ginny's brother, while actually trying to worm his way in?"

Harry hadn't thought about that, and now that Dennis put it into that perspective, he had to slow down and think for a bit. "I'll tie him," he decided, "and ask some questions that only the real Ron would know."

"Harry—" Dennis started to say, but Harry interrupted.

"Dennis, I value your insight very much, but this will work. Just trust me."

"As long as it doesn't bring the whole mission crashing down," Dennis said darkly before storming back to his tent. Harry sighed and slumped onto his cot, pondering his sinister words.

* * *

><p>"He up yet?" Ginny asked in a hushed voice. Harry shook his head. It was seven in the morning, and nearly two hours had passed, but Ron was just as still and cold as before. Harry wondered if somehow the Stunning Spells had stopped his heart, but the slow, weak thumping proved him wrong, thank goodness. The two of them were sitting silently in front of the cot, watching for any signs of movement. So far, they might as well as be staring at a corpse. Ginny's head dropped onto Harry's shoulder, and soon, soft snores filled the tent. His own eyelids were heavy; and to think that a few hours ago he was so sure of getting a good night's sleep! A huge yawn forced its way out of his mouth, and his eyes drooped, lower and lower. <em>Stay awake<em>, he told himself sluggishly. Stay awake…stay awake…stay…awake…awake…

Ron groaned and blinked open his eyes. Harry jumped up, upsetting Ginny's head on his shoulder. Shiny black ropes flew from his wand, working their way around Ron, binding him in place.

"Harry?" Ron said slowly, looking down at the ropes. "Where am I?"

Harry ignored his question, instead lifting up the tent flap and calling into the camp, "He's awake!" Soon, Seamus and Dean stumbled into the tent, Dennis following a little ways behind.

"Harry, ask him. Now." Dennis commanded.

"I know what to do, thanks," Harry replied, his mild tone concealing something darker. "Right. Someone get him some water."

Ginny hurried forward, lifting a cup to her brother's lips. Ron drank in big gulps, and soon had emptied the small cup. "More," he rasped. "Please."

"Sorry," Ginny whispered. "Soon, but not now."

"Where did the brains from the Department of Mysteries grip you?" Harry asked, praying to Merlin above that Ron hadn't shown anyone else those scars.

"On my arm," Ron answered warily. "Why're you asking this? You don't trust me?"

Harry let out his breath in relief and the ropes disappeared. Ron shook out his arms and legs to get the blood flowing, and Ginny brought him another cup of water.

"Ron, mate, it is you!" Seamus grinned and clapped Ron on the back. "What are you doing out here though?"

"It's kind of a long story," he glanced at Harry, subtly gesturing to his hand, where the Deluminator rested.

"We've got time," Dennis said. "Tell us how you came to be here."

Ron squinted at him. "You're not Colin's brother, are you?"

"Tell us," Dennis said coldly, "How you came to be here."

"I'll ask the questions, Dennis," Harry reminded him, letting some ice creep into his voice. "Ron, go on."

"With everybody here?"

"Unless you have something you wish to conceal, then yes, with everyone on the team here," Dennis leaned forward. "Well? Tell us your story."

"All right, all right," Ron scowled at him. "So after you people left, Hermione sort of persuaded me—" he grimaced at Harry and Ginny. "—and you know how she goes. She persuaded me to, I dunno, make up with you, and to take the Deluminator and find you and Ginny. So I Apparated here—nearly got Splinched, mind—and found you. The end." He finished. "Happy now, Creevey?"

"That doesn't sound like too long a story," Dean remarked.

"Well, there're little details here and there that aren't really all that important—"

"Tell us everything," Dennis interrupted. "Like why your wife told you to take the Deluminator, for example. Does it have some sort of tracking feature on it?"

"No," Ron said, puzzled. "Not at all. It's the magic that led me to the camp." He looked meaningfully at Harry, something that did not, unfortunately, go unnoticed by Dennis. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Harry tried to ignore it.

"All right, everyone out," he shooed them out, towards the exit. "Let Ron get his strength back. Then you can pester him all you want."

Dennis didn't look satisfied, like he still had some issues, but even he had to follow the team leader's orders. Once outside, he immediately expressed those issues.

"Harry, that is a sketchy explanation, at best. I know you don't think he's a spy, but just what if—"

"Look, Dennis. Spy or not, he's human. Let him recover, then you can tackle any problem you have with him, all right? And remember who's in charge here!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: See, I kept my promise! And it's not like this chapter was hastily thrown together at the last second or anything, right? No, no, of course not!<strong>

**~Gella**


	11. Chapter 11

Dennis Creevey counted the minutes in his head, waited patiently for his midday meal. Every day, without fail, three meals would be brought in, either by the girl with the blonde hair and blue eyes, the girl that had bedded him the first day—Remina, he learned—or her mother, Lavender. He hadn't seen the _other_ girl, the one masquerading to be him with Polyjuice Potion, since the last time she visited him, bearing the news of Harry Potter. When he was in the basement, chained up, he had a lot of time to think, to size up the situation. They were keeping him alive, obviously needing his hair for the Polyjuice, but it seemed that they weren't going to kill him, although certainly not intending to let him go anytime soon. Some days, when he was in the house, he caught snippets, sometimes even entire conversations while being restricted in his room, with Remina.

That was the next thing. Sometimes she brought a book to read, sometimes she would be writing what seemed like an extensive letter, and sometime she even knitted. But other times, when she was not reading or writing or doing anything with needles and yarns, she was with him. _On_ him, actually. He wondered the purpose of this. Did Lavender put her up to this, hoping to win him over? If so, then the werewolves must have thought him an indefinitely shallow creature, Dennis reflected dryly. The sound of the door opening brought him back from his thoughts, admitting Remina with his standard tray of food.

"Shepard's pie, green beans, and milk," she announced brightly, freeing Dennis from the bedpost, to which he had been tied for the past few minutes, while she was gone getting his food. "So sorry I had to tie you, but it was Mother's orders."

Dennis took the tray from her hand and nodded his thanks. She watched him with an amused air, then set to opening the curtains and the windows, letting in a gust of wind. Dennis knew that she wasn't going to try anything today, since she always let the curtains down on those days. Then Remina settled herself on the bed next to him comfortably. He paused, glancing sideways at her, but she gestured for him to keep eating.

"You are rather interesting, for a human," she commented, running her fingers down his back. "Normally a man like yourself would be wetting himself at my touch, yet here you are, seemingly unaffected."

"Normally, I wouldn't be locked in a room with a beautiful girl who happens to be a werewolf," he responded. Remina laughed lightly.

"Very true, that. But had you not know the true nature of my being, I would just simply be a beautiful girl locked in a room with you."

"But since I do know what you are, you're not just a girl. You're something that could be kissing my throat one second, then ripping it out in the next." His blank mask never once wavered.

"Very good," she stroked his ear. "Very good. You are a sharp one, Dennis."

"That's why you'll ultimately kill me, isn't it?"

To his surprise, Remina looked perturbed. "No," she murmured. "No. We won't kill you."

He barked a laugh. "Or, in another case, lock me here forever until I'm old and withered."

She stood up, a charming smile on her face. "Don't worry yourself with those matters just yet. Whether we kill you, or keep you, or turn you, you need not know."

"Turn me?" he asked.

"Into one of us," she finished with a wolfish grin. For a second a flash of yellow colored her lapis eyes, so fast that Dennis wondered if his sight was tampered with by the bright sunlight. Then, it was gone. He studied her face carefully as she bent to pick up his empty tray, looking for a sign of her true nature slipping through, and found none. With another smile, she bound him once again, and was gone.

* * *

><p>Darkness. Shadows. Faint scuffles in the undergrowth. A more menacing growl from behind him. Harry spun around, wand pointed at the heart of—air?<p>

The tiniest rustle, the minutest swoosh. Harry whirled about wildly, but a huge weight knocked him down. His wand is lost, tangled under the roots of an ancient tree. Thick saliva dripped from an open mouth, lined with sharp, flesh-eating teeth. Putrid breath. Claws dug into his neck, dangerously close to his jugular. The wolf seemed to be in no hurry, taking pleasure in the slow torture. Harry's head was spinning; he was losing blood, first in small rivulets, but now in gushes and gushes. The thick, yellow nails were carving thick lines down his chest, a map embossed with red. Just as it was about to strike the final blow—

"Harry," a whisper jolted him out of the unnervingly real dream—so much that Harry wondered if it had been a dream at all. "Harry?" the voice asked.

"Ron?" he whispered back, squinting and waiting for his eyes to adjust. "What're you doing here? What time is it?"

"Dunno. Creevey can't hear us here, can he?"

"No, unless he's hiding under my bed. Why?"

There was a groan and a creak as Ron sat down on the cot as well. "_Muffliato_," he whispered. A second later, a light illuminated the small space. Ron's unshaven face peered out at him, the Deluminator supplying the brightness.

"_Muffliato_ doesn't protect against sight," Harry pointed out. "People can still see the light from outside."

"Oh. Right." Another hissed spell. "We're good now."

"What did you do?" Harry asked curiously. "I've never heard of it before."

"Hermione invented it. It works exactly like an Invisibility Cloak. Comes in handy now and then," he added.

Harry shifted. "Yeah, speaking of Hermione. She didn't tell you to come here, did she?"

"She did. Partly. I'll tell you the whole thing another time, but basically she yelled at me, made me feel like I should do something, you know, the usual…and here I am."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Quite the condensed version. And you woke me up for that?"

Ron lowered his voice, regardless of the spell that enveloped them in their little cocoon of silence. "And, I don't trust your spy."

"Because he was a little harsh to you? Come on, Ron—"

"Harry." Ron said. "I don't trust him."

Harry nodded. "All right. I'll keep an eye on him. Now, tell me how exactly you found us with the Deluminator."

"It was exactly like that time, on the Horcruxes hunt. Except this time, the light just came out on its own." He looked at his best friend. "You didn't mention my name the last few days, right?"

Harry thought back to arriving, setting up the camp, observing the cubs on the full moon. "We might have," he decided. "But I can't remember."

"Well, the light came out, floated into me and all that. Obviously I couldn't see you guys because of all the protective spells you put up, but this urge kept pushing me in the direction."

"So," Harry said, thinking hard, "the Deluminator works even without someone's name being said out loud. And it can lead the holder to its target?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it the target. It just sounds, I dunno—" he scratched his head, searching for the right word. "—a bit sadistic to me."

"Quarry, then," Harry said. "But it can track people, yes?"

"Yes," Ron confirmed. "And I think it might be able to help us out on this mission."

"There's no need," Harry said. "We already know where the cubs are located."

"Oh, you do? Good work, mate. So now what?"

"We know where the cubs go on the night of the full moon," Harry compromised. "But as for the rest of the time…let's say the Deluminator we can use as a last resort only."

Ron toyed with the small thing. "How do we find out where they hide during the month then?"

Harry shrugged. "We'll follow them once the full moon's over."

"This mission will take quite a bit of time, huh," Ron remarked. "It'll be at least another month before we can act."

"Better safe than sorry. And, other than Hermione's gentle persuasion, why else did you come here?"

Ron stared at him. "Are you mental? There's a million reasons why I came here! Let's count—oh, yeah, my baby sister's pregnant, you'll need my help on this, the whole Dennis thing—"

"Hang on," Harry interrupted. "I'll need your help on this? You're not even on the mission!"

"Come on, mate, I won't fall for Brown's glamour. Just the very thought of Hermione finding out scares the living hell out of me."

"But Kingsley said—"

"Kingsley told you to trust Dennis," Ron countered, "and do I look likely to do that?"

"Blimey, how do you know all this?"

"Let's just say Hermione isn't one for subtlety when she's mad." Ron winced.

"Ah."

"Yeah. So, am I part of the team now or not?"

Harry sighed heavily. "Dennis won't like it. But," he added as Ron started to protest, "you are part of the team, provided that _you_ explain to Kingsley about everything once we get back."

"Deal," Ron grinned. "I'll leave you to your sweet dreams now."

"Just get out of here. You really do have the worst timing," Harry muttered as Ron took off the enchantments and stepped outside. Once he was gone, Harry lay back, and tried to sleep.

* * *

><p>Dennis narrowed his eyes. He'd seen someone duck into Harry's tent. Hasty words were exchanged, and small yellow light rose and spell cast. Suddenly, all was silent. And, just as suddenly, the entire proximity was dark once more.<p>

He inched closer to his leader's tent, and peeked into it. There, lying on his cot, was Harry Potter, and Harry Potter alone. His brow furrowed; he was sure he had seen another being enter! No matter. He will simply wait until that individual comes out.

A painstaking ten minutes later, Ron Weasley emerged. He did not notice the flap to Dennis's tent was slightly open, and he did not notice the invisible eyes that appraised him from a distance. He did not know, that with this confidential late-night visit, he has been marked for death.

* * *

><p>Harry, needless to say, did not sleep easily afterwards. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same dark forest, the same bright, round moon, and the same wolf. He repeated his dream to the entire team next morning at breakfast.<p>

"Are you sure?" Dean asked. "It's not like those dreams you had at school, are they?"

"No, Dean," Harry said impatiently. "Those dreams were from my connection to Voldemort. Do you see Voldemort anywhere around?"

"Don't say the name," Seamus muttered, glancing shiftily around. "Still gives me the jitters, that…"

"It's that forest," Harry insisted. "They transform there."

"Harry, I hope you're not thinking for us to tackle them when they're wolves," Ginny said.

"'Course not!" Harry said heatedly. At the same time, Ron said,

"'Us'? _You're_ not thinking that you're actually going to do a part in this, are you?"

"What Ron said makes sense," Harry jumped in before Ginny could strangle her brother. "You can't come along, in your condition."

"It's barely been a month," Ginny muttered rebelliously. "But since you men obviously know best, _fine_, I won't come along." With that and a huff, she stomped back into her own tent. Harry gazed after her for a few moments, then turned back to the rest of the team.

"We'll track them the morning following the full moon, and scout out where they are."

"Why?" Lee spoke up. "We can just use Ron's Delusion-thingy."

"Deluminator," Harry corrected. "And we're not sure on the reliability—" behind him, Ron snorted softly. "—of it. Better safe than sorry," he repeated what he'd said the night before.

"I agree with Harry," Dennis said. "After all, we wouldn't want the instrument to sabotage the entire mission, would we?"

Ron glared at him openly. Harry looked from his to Dennis uncomfortably.

"Right. Next full moon, then."

"Next full moon," the group chorused and returned to their daily activities. In the hubbub, Dennis, unnoticed by none—except one—quietly slipped away.

* * *

><p>"He has a Deluminator. And it can be used to find anyone."<p>

"But he doesn't know of this place."

"Remina, he'll find out soon enough! He's planning to track you and Rom next full moon."

"He's taken the bait, and next full moon, you say? Well, next full moon, we strike."

"And where do I fit into that?"

"You remain the ever-loyal spy, of course."

"And of course, you refuse to give me a straight answer."

"Did you expect otherwise?"

"Well, fair enough. I need to get back before anyone notices."

"Safe spying, darling."

As the girl swept past him, Dennis ducked back into his room, heart pounding. Next full moon. He will have to act before the next full moon. The only question now, is _how_?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Plotline troubles, who doesn't love those? <strong>

**~Gella**


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